This was our front yard last Friday:
Could it get any worse?
It couldn’t possibly get worse than that…
Could not possibly…
Can’t get worse…
BAM.
I got home from the gym this morning at 7am. It was -2 F degrees without the windchill, probably -15 or more every time the bitter Arctic wind gusts. Mountains of snow are everywhere. There is more snow coming. There is not a day over 32 degrees in the 12-day forecast (and that is a snow day).
“I’m done,” I told Mr. P. “Done.”
I’m so ready to run away to San Francisco. It turns out I’m not a hardy New Englander. I like being outdoors. I don’t mind some cold, I don’t mind some snow, but…
